The Bubble Room

By: Eve Karma

Disclaimer: I don't own West Wing (gee, how do you figure...) and The Bubble Room is a restaurant in Sanibel, Florida that I absolutely adore. The club in DC that I fabricated isn't based on that, just has the same name.... because I like it. Hee hee.

Spoilers: A small one from "Mr. Willis of Ohio."

Other: Yet another Kate Montgomery story. It has nothing to do with The Star That Never Was or Welcome Back, Kate, so don't attempt to place it between them because it's awfully confusing. It takes place in the early fall. Enjoy!



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Sam had been acting weird all week.



I mean, his "normal" is a little abnormal, but this time he was just acting weird.



Friday morning he stopped at my desk on his way into his office.



"Morning, Kate," he said.



"Hey," I mumbled. I was trying to make a phone call, but some secretary had me on hold.



Sam stood there in front of my desk, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.



"What do you need, Sam?"



"Um...Kate, I was thinking, if you weren't doing anything tonight, would you want to, uh, grab something to eat?"



"Thanks, Sam, but I can't."



"Oh. Okay."



He turned and walked into his office before I had a chance to stop him.





When I got off the phone, I knocked on his door and went in.



"Hey, Sam."



"Hi." He smiled fakely.



"Sam, I just wanted to tell you that I can't go out with you tonight because I already have plans."



"That's okay."



"Well, I wanted to see if you wanted to come along."



Sam seemed to perk up a bit. "What kind of plans do you have in mind?"



"Zoey, Charlie, and I are going to a club. I talked to Charlie, he said to bring you with us."



"Eh, I don't know, Kate..."



"Why not? It'll be fun!"



"I think I'm too old to go to a club."



"No, c'mon, Sam, you're not too old."



"Wait, isn't Zoey a bit too young to be going to a club?"



I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. "It's 18 to enter, Sam, don't change the subject, just tell me you'll go."





"Fine."



~~~~~



At five, I went into Sam's office to pry him away from his work.



"Sam, time to go."



"What's with the coat?"



"You'll find out later, Sam, just stand up and get yourself out of here."



He followed me into the lobby, where Charlie and an overly excited Zoey were waiting. They were both wearing long coats similar to mine.



"I can't believe we're going to The Bubble Room!" Zoey cried.



"The Bubble Room?" Sam yelped.



"Yeah," I replied, turning around to look at him. "Is there a problem with that, Sam?"



"Uh, no. No problem at all," Sam's voice shook.



We all left the White House and walked towards my fire engine red Jetta in the parking lot.



"Kate, you have one cool car," Charlie complimented.



"I get shotgun!" Zoey sang out and ran over to the car.



"Hey, what rule says that you get to ride in the front?" Sam called after her.



"I'm the youngest," Zoey shot back, smiling.



Charlie and Sam squeezed themselves into the backseat, and as we entered the streets of DC, Zoey proceeded to play with my radio.



"Oooh, stop there," or "I love this song!" I would say occasionally.



"Why can't we just choose one station and stick with it?" Sam piped up from the back.



"And what station would you choose, Sam? Easy listening? Oldies?"



"Zoey!" I took a hand off the wheel and slapped her arm.



"I wonder where the Secret Service guys are?" Charlie mused.



"Probably two cars behind us or something. Hey, maybe they're undercover!" She laughed.



"Um, speaking of undercover, can I ask what the coats are for?" Sam inquired.



"Well...Kate, you want to take care of this one?" Zoey looked at me.



"Sam...we just...didn't want to get stopped by someone at the White House and have to answer any questions about our clothing. That's all."



"That's all? What the hell are you all wearing?"



By this time we had found a parking space outside the club. As we got out, Charlie whispered to me, "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to bring him."



"It'll be fine," I shook my head. "We'll loosen him up."



The three of us slipped off our coats and put them in the trunk while Sam stared.



"What?" Charlie asked him.



"Hey, why are you always shocked by what I'm wearing?" I asked Sam.



"Because Eve wrote it that way." He replied.



"It happens quite often, though, I'm just saying...does she have some kind of fetish or--"



"Hey!!" Zoey yelled and threw up her hands. "Can we stop talking about the writer and get back to our lives now?"



"Fine," we both grumbled.



I was wearing a short black skirt and a shimmery red tank top. Zoey was wearing basically the same outfit, but her top was silver.



Charlie just made me laugh. "I don't even know why I bought these," he said as he shifted uncomfortably in his leather pants. He also wore a gray button-down shirt. He looked pretty sharp, if you asked me.



Sam was wearing khakis, a dressy white shirt, and a maroon tie.



"Guys, maybe I shouldn't be here. I mean, I'm not dressed right, and I feel like I should be babysitting you guys..." he said as we showed our IDs and paid the cover at the door.



"Babysitting is for the Secret Service, Sam, not you," Zoey told him before turning to me. "Help me get this on?" She held out her arm for me to fasten her orange bracelet that meant she was under eighteen and couldn't be served at the bar. Charlie had his on already.



"Why do they call it the Bubble Room?" Sam asked.



I squinted at Zoey's wrist, struggling with the band. Finally, it snapped into place. "Look up," I told him as we moved from the foyer into the main part of the club.



Machines near the ceiling blew hundreds of bubbles that slowly drifted down around us. It was magical.



"I can see why this is your favorite place to party," Charlie told me, admiring the atmosphere.



"C'mon, let's hit the dance floor!" Zoey cried and disappeared into the crowd.



"I think I'm going to get a drink," Sam said and bolted to the bar, looking green.